


Stay

by maddienole



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Daddy Issues, Depression, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Klaus Hargreeves Has Issues, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus is a good brother, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Pre-Canon, Protective Siblings, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, So is Five, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25871269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddienole/pseuds/maddienole
Summary: Five had saved his life once, many months ago. Maybe it was time for Klaus to return the favor.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves & Reginald Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Reginald Hargreeves
Comments: 31
Kudos: 829





	Stay

**1/06/2001;** **12:26 AM**

It started off small.  
  
The talks, the trainings, the trips to the cemetery.  
  
Klaus wasn’t stupid. _Lazy_ , but not stupid.  
  
Father had a particular way of going about things, and gentle encouragement wasn’t one of them. He hated fear, and unfortunately Klaus was full of it. But what ten year old wasn’t afraid of death, especially when one could communicate with those already passed on?  
  
None of that mattered in the least to father, who determined that his progress had been stunted and changes needed to be made to his training regimen.  
  
If you had asked him the day before, Klaus wouldn’t have been able to tell you what a mausoleum was.  
  
But now?  
  
He knew it all too well. The darkness, the cold marble floors, the dead that would torment his every waking moment.  
  
_No_ , he decided. Klaus did _not_ like the mausoleum.  
  
But why did that matter? It wasn’t like his opinion _meant_ anything. And so, it was on with the training.  
  
As usual, father started out small.  
  
First ten minutes inside. Then an hour. Then several more after that. It still _wasn’t_ enough, father had told him. Even a year into this new training routine Klaus still hadn’t conquered his fear of the dead.  
  
So now he was being left overnight. The voices had gotten louder, he realized. Men and women and boys and girls all screaming into his ear about hundreds of different things, most of which he couldn’t make out.  
  
And it was so terribly cold.  
  
Klaus wondered if father knew how _cold_ it was in here.  
  
He wondered if he cared.  
  
Klaus sunk to the floor, curling into as tight a ball as possible in an effort to conserve warmth.  
  
It was probably pretty late now, but he had no way to check the time. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to filter out all of the sounds swirling around in his head. There was some woman - _some foreign woman_ \- that had showed up recently and was yelling at him in some language that he didn’t know. He put his hands to his ears, trying to hold back tears.  
  
He couldn’t cry. Father would know somehow and make him stay even longer. But his head was aching something awful and he couldn’t feel much in his legs and it was so, _so_ loud and....  
  
“Klaus?”  
  
He could feel his heart in his throat. How...did the ghosts know his name?  
  
A second passed. And then another.  
  
He didn’t dare open his eyes, afraid of what he would see. But after what must have been a minute passed, he felt a hand on his shoulder.  
  
A _warm_ hand.  
  
He gasped, opening up his eyes.  
  
It was hard to see at first, trying to adjust his vision in the dark.  
  
But then it became obvious.  
  
His smallest brother - _number five_ \- was standing in front of him. His face was a mixture of concern and confusion as he took in his surroundings.  
  
“So...is this where the old man’s been keeping you?” he asked, reaching into a tattered backpack for what looked like a flashlight.  
  
“How....what...”  
  
“Use your _words_ , Klaus.”

He flicked on the flashlight and a bright circle of light illuminated the room.  
  
“Well that’s better, isn’t it?”  
  
“How did you get in here?” Klaus asked, scrambling to his feet.  
  
“Are you serious?”  
  
“I....wait that’s not what I meant. Like....how did you find me?”  
  
Five didn’t answer immediately, taking in the surrounding area. Klaus often wondered what went through his brother’s head. He always had the look - _and the attitude_ \- about him like he was two steps ahead of anyone at any given time.  
  
And the thing was, it was often true.  
  
“Five?” he repeated as his brother went to touch one of the tombstones.  
  
“You can hear them, can’t you?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Everyone who died in here. Is father punishing you?”  
  
Klaus shot a glance to the foreign lady behind him. There was a hole in her head and the blood dribbled down her cheeks to soak through the top portion of her dress.  
  
He gave an involuntary shudder.  
  
“It’s part of my training,” he mumbled, suddenly finding interest in his feet.  
  
Five raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Oh?”  
  
Foreign lady started talking to him again, somehow even louder than before.

 _“кто этот маленький мальчик?”_  
  
“Shut up!” he hissed.  
  
“What’s she saying?”  
  
“I don’t know! It’s some language I’ve never heard of.”  
  
“Well that’s inconvenient.”  
  
Klaus sighed, turning back around.  
  
“You didn’t answer my question. How did you find me?”  
  
Five shrugged.  
  
“Luther mentioned in passing that father was changing your training routine. I grew curious, is all.”  
  
“He changed it a year ago. Why are you bothering me now?”  
  
Five exhaled, looking decidedly uncomfortable.  
  
“I think a year is long enough to determine that whatever father is putting you through isn’t working, don’t you think?”  
  
“That still doesn’t...”  
  
“Father wanted you to overcome your fear of ghosts, what better way to do that then to lock you in with them?” he interrupted. “It really wasn’t that hard to connect the dots.”  
  
He reached back into his backpack, pulling out what was perhaps the fluffiest blanket he had ever seen.  
  
“I nicked this from one of those bedding stores in the mall. Thought you could use it.”  
  
Klaus could cry right now. He took the blanket, noting how soft the fabric felt in his hands.  
  
Five shot him a soft smile.  
  
“It’s really cold outside. It might not be the same as a bed, but...”  
  
He trailed off, averting his gaze.  
  
“Why are you helping me?” Klaus asked, holding on to the blanket like a lifeline.  
  
Five frowned.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Isn’t that obvious?”  
  
“Um....no?”  
  
Five shook his head, stifling a laugh.  
  
“You’re my _brother_ , you idiot. There is no place I’d rather be.”

**1/13/2001;** **11:49 PM**

  
  
It became a routine of sorts. Five would stop by - sometimes for a couple minutes, other times for several hours - and they would just...talk.  
  
He didn’t know why his smallest brother found such an interest in a place like this, especially when he could be sleeping, but Klaus found that he didn’t mind much. Maybe it was because Five always brought food with him.  
  
Or maybe it was because he stopped hearing the voices when he was around.  
  
It had been going on for about a week now, and Five had shown up right on cue with a box of doughnut holes in one hand and a cup tray in the other.  
  
“Griddy’s?”  
  
He nodded, taking a seat near the back as he immediately dug into the box of sweetened dough.  
  
Klaus smiled, taking his cup of hot cocoa from the cup tray. He savored the taste - _and the warmth_ \- as the liquid ran down his throat. He had never tasted anything this perfect before in his life.  
  
Foreign lady squawked behind him, flapping her arms about and sending him very nasty glares.  
  
“I don’t speak that!” he hissed in return, putting his cup down.  
  
“What’s she doing now?”  
  
“Annoying me.”  
  
“Welcome to my world,” Five said, popping a chocolate doughnut hole in his mouth.  
  
“You get annoyed by everything though.”  
  
“No. I get annoyed by idiots. And it’s not my fault that _most_ of the population are idiots.”  
  
Klaus rolled his eyes, but didn’t respond.

**2/20/2001 ;** **2:04 AM**

**  
**  
_“How about Robert?”  
  
“Absolutely not.”  
  
“William?”  
  
“Boring.”  
  
“Charles?”  
  
“Gross.”  
  
“Okay, okay, I got it. The perfect name for you!”  
  
“Hit me.”  
  
“Vladimir.”  
  
“.......”  
  
“It’s good, isn’t it?”  
  
“Go die in a hole.”_

**3/02/2001;** **11:27 pm**

“I brought something new today.”

“Oh?”

Five smiled, reaching into his bag and pulling out a large bottle with clear liquid inside.

“What is that?” Klaus asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“Svedka.”

“Huh?”

Five rolled his eyes.

“Vodka. Cheap vodka, mind you, but it’s still the real deal.”

He unscrewed the cap and poured a little inside of a plastic cup.

“Are….you sure that’s safe?”

Five shrugged.

“I mean… I think that’s how you’re supposed to drink it, right? Or are you supposed to mix it with something? I can never remember.”

He took a tentative sip from the cup and almost immediately spat it out.

“It tastes like nail polish,” he moaned, clutching his stomach in a rather impressive display of agony.

“Alright, _I_ want to try it now,” Klaus giggled.

“It’s your funeral,” Five mumbled. “I have no idea why adults like it so much.”

Klaus took a sip from Five’s cup – _a small one mind you_ – and….

Yeah, it was pretty bad. He couldn’t describe the taste too well, maybe sour in way? But it burned his throat on the way down.

“You’re right,” Klaus said, tossing the bottle aside. “Adults are nuts.”

**3/19/2001;** **1:37 AM**

  
The voices were very loud tonight.  
  
Klaus found that he couldn’t do anything more than crouch in the corner and try to muffle out the sounds with his hands over his ears.  
  
His head felt as though it was going to split open, the pain radiating from his temples down the length of his body.  
  
Everything just...hurt.  
  
_“You must....”  
  
“....why aren’t....”  
  
“....why can’t you....”  
  
“....poirquoi ru ne fais pas....”  
  
“....ayudame por favor....”_  
  
“Shut up!” he screamed into the void, feeling the tears running down his face.  
  
He felt the hand on his shoulder again, an indication that Five must have arrived.  
  
“It’s bad tonight, isn’t it?” he whispered.  
  
Klaus opened his watery eyes, and there must have been....how many people in this room?  
  
Tens, at least. And they were all screaming bloody murder.  
  
_“Waarom help je ons niet?”  
  
“....vi trenger deg....”  
  
“Neden dinlemiyorsun....”_  
  
“Klaus?” Five said again, slightly louder than before.  
  
“Don’t look at them, okay?”  
  
He hooked his finger under the larger boy’s chin, forcing him to look up.  
  
“Look at me,” he repeated. “Can you breathe with me?”  
  
No. No he couldn’t. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see or hear or _think_.  
  
_“Eres un idiota.”  
  
“....petit garçon stupide....”_  
  
“Klaus, snap out of it!”  
  
Five slapped his hand across his cheek, not particularly hard, but with enough force that it stung.  
  
He sniffled, wiping away a stray tear rolling down his face.  
  
“I’m going to kill myself.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I said I’m....”  
  
“I heard you the first time.”  
  
Five took another step closer, and Klaus flinched, preparing to be hit again.  
  
The blow, however, didn’t come.  
  
A moment of silence permeated the room, and even the ghosts in the background stopped their shrieking to focus on the conversation.  
  
Five took a deep breath, reaching for a napkin in the McDonald’s bag he must have brought in.  
  
“Here,” he said, handing the napkin to him. “Wipe your face. It’s all dirty.”  
  
Another sniffle. Another silent moment.  
  
Five stood up, walking - _no, pacing_ \- around the room. He was one of those children that could never quite keep still. One of those children that always had to be doing something lest boredom take over.  
  
It took another couple of minutes before he spoke again.  
  
“Why would you do something stupid like that?” he finally asked, hands on hips.  
  
Klaus found himself pressing further into the marble walls, as if being berated by a parent.

_“hvað er hann að segja?”_

_“¿Por qué estás llorando?”_

_“_ _Aidez nous s'il vous plaît… »_

“I can’t take it anymore...” he started, then immediately stopped as he tried to stifle another sob.  
  
Five clenched his fist. Then unclenched his fist. Then clenched it again. Must’ve been a tick of some sort.  
  
“Listen,” he said, crouching back down. “I...I know life sucks right now, but....” he paused, as if trying to figure out the right thing to stay. “Please don’t think those things, alright? If you do then father wins.”  
  
“This isn’t a game, Five...”  
  
“Of course it’s a game! Isn’t that what life is?”  
  
He sighed, clenching his fist again.  
  
“I will stay with you, if you want me to. Until you get those thoughts out of your head. I know I’m not a therapist or anything, but I will stay here if you need me, okay?”  
  
Klaus sniffled again, looking around at the other less alive occupants of the room.  
  
Foreign lady’s gaze was hooked on his, and she...was she smiling? She pointed to the crumbled blanket in the floor, hugging her shoulders as if to say _“warm yourself”._  
  
Despite everything, Klaus couldn’t help but smile along with her.  
  
“Will you stay with me tonight?” he whispered.  
  
Five took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.  
  
“Always.”

  
**4/12/2001;** **11:25 PM**

  
  
“What are we watching now?”  
  
“The Phantom Menace.”  
  
“Is that still Star Wars?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
Five took out the portable DVD player that he definitely _did not steal from Radio Shack_ and inserted the DVD that he _100% did not take from the nearest Blockbuster._  
  
“Father has been denying us, you know. Every child should be able to experience Star Wars.”  
  
“You already _showed_ me Star Wars, Five.”  
  
“No, I showed you the original trilogy. Now it’s time for the prequels. Attack of the Clones comes out next year and we have to be ready for it.”  
  
Klaus groaned, snuggling deeper into the blanket.  
  
“You at least brought the popcorn, right?”  
  
Five smiled, handing him the steaming hot bag.  
  
“I made sure it was the extra buttery ones you get at the theater.”  
  
“I would expect nothing less.”  
  
He could hear Foreign Lady grunt in the background, looking rather peeved at having to sit through another “Space and Lasers” movie.  
  
Klaus shrugged.  
  
“It’s his choice, not mine.”

  
**5/16/2001;** **10:58 PM**

  
  
_“How about Henry?”  
  
“Why Henry?”  
  
“Wasn’t that the name of like...several English Kings?”  
  
“I’m not English. And Henry the Eighth is not a person to aspire to be.”  
  
“C’mon Five. You’re the only one of us that still doesn’t have a name.”  
  
“I have a name.”  
  
“Five isn’t a name. It’s a number.”  
  
“It’s my name.”  
  
“How about Christopher?”  
  
“I’m not Christian.”  
  
“What does that have to do with...”  
  
“Christopher derives from the Greek, ‘Bearer of Christ’.”  
  
“How do you...actually, never mind.”  
  
“I like my name.”  
  
“I know, Five.”  
  
“It’s a good name.”  
  
“.....”  
  
“I know, Five.”  
  
_

**5/28/2001;** **12:37 am**

“I have an idea.”

“What?”

“About the Svedka.”

“That stuff again?”

Five nodded, rolling onto his stomach from where he previously lay in the sleeping bag.

“We mix it in with the sprite.”

Klaus frowned.

“Gross, why?”

“So it won’t taste as bad.”

“No thanks. I like my sprite how it is.”

Five shrugged, rising to his feet.

“Suit yourself.”

His smallest brother grabbed the bottle of Svedka that they hid behind one of the columns and dumped a fair amount into his half-drunk bottle of soda.

“Five are you sure…”

He didn’t respond, and Klaus could only watch as he inhaled the whole bottle.

“Are you….feeling okay?”

Five sank back down to the floor with a slightly glazed expression.

“I feel kinda funny.”

“Like…good funny or bad funny?”

“ _Funny_ funny.”

“Umm…”

“You should try it.”

“I don’t think…”

“Nobody has to know, Klaus…” Five interrupted with a giggle. “It can be _our_ secret.”

Klaus bit his lip, eyes darting uncertainly between his brother and the bottle of alcohol.

_What do I have to lose?_

Five was right, the vodka tasted much better when you mixed it with something else. Klaus didn’t really have a problem finishing his bottle, and wound up sprawled out onto the floor.

He felt….fuzzy.

Fuzzy and funny and a little warm.

Things seemed to be going a slower or maybe _he_ was going a bit slower…

“Are we drunk?” he asked Five, who was curled up next to him.

“I dunno, maybe?”

He tried focusing on the wall in front of him, but all he could see was a giant grey-ish blur.

“I can’t hear them, Five.”

“Huh?”

“The ghosts. I can’t…I don’t know. I can’t hear them.”

“Maybe it’s the alcohol.”

_Was it?_

He glanced back towards the bottle, and a slight smile grew on his face.

Maybe…vodka wasn’t so bad.

**6/07/2001;** **3:26 am**

_“Okay, okay. Hear me out.”_

_“What now?”_

_“Hubert.”_

_“…..seriously?”_

_“It’s a good name!”_

_“…..”_

_“Fine. I’ll think of another one.”_

_“Thank….go-”_

_“Milton.”_

_“Klaus!”_

_“Winston?”_

_“No.”_

_“Horton?”_

_“Absolutely not.”_

_“Xavier.”_

_“Like from the X-Men?”_

_“Yeah. You remind me of him. Except less bald. And less old.”_

_“And less wheelchair-bound.”_

_“But you have the brain though.”_

_“Hmmmm…..”_

_“C’mon, Five. Admit you like it…”_

_“I’ll think about it.”_

_“Really?”_

_“…..maybe.”_

**6/21/2001;** **11:07 pm**

  
  
It was a quiet night, tonight. Klaus was trying - _and failing_ \- at doing a word search while Five sat in the corner looking intently at what seemed to be a physics book. There was a half-eaten marshmallow and peanut butter sandwich sitting beside him that hadn’t been touched in at least an hour.  
  
He had brought a battery powered lamp a couple of weeks ago, which illuminated almost every area of the Mausoleum, bathing the room in a warm glow.  
  
It felt...homey.  
  
It had been about thirty minutes of trying and straining and thinking very hard before Klaus had to admit defeat. He put the word search down and glanced back at Five, who looked as though he hadn’t moved in the time he’d been here.  
  
“You know, you’ve been reading that book for weeks. Is it an assignment?”  
  
Five craned his head up.  
  
“I’m going to time travel,” he asserted.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Time travel. The concept of moving between different...”  
  
“Yeah, yeah. I know what it is. But...I mean...how?”  
  
“I can manipulate space time. And if I can rip a hole in space and travel to the other side, then I can certainly do it with time.”  
  
“Does...father know about this?”  
  
“He knows.”  
  
“And he’s okay with it?”  
  
“Well....”  
  
“Five?”  
  
He sighed.  
  
“He knows it’s theoretically possible. But he won’t allow me to try. He says it’s too dangerous. That I’m not ready for it.”  
  
“Well maybe you should listen...”  
  
“But I _am_ ready, Klaus!” he cut in sharply. “I know I am.”  
  
“I guess...”  
  
“I’ll tell him again tomorrow,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’ll tell him that I’m ready. I’ve been studying, I have notes written, it’ll be fine. He’ll have to listen to me. What can go wrong?”  
  
  
  
  
  
**6/23/2001;** **2:13 am**  
  
  
  
Five didn’t come today.  
  
Maybe Klaus should have seen this coming. Maybe Five had finally gotten bored of him. Maybe he had found some other thing or book or person to occupy his brilliant little brain.  
  
Regardless, it stung.  
  
Five had missed nights before, but Klaus was always told before the fact.  
  
Was father punishing him for something? He thought back to their conversation yesterday, about him wanting to time travel. It couldn’t have ended well.  
  
Klaus sighed, leaning up against the wall.  
  
_“Waarom ben je zo droevig?”  
  
“Ou est le petit?”  
  
“....esta solo esta noche....”_  
  
“Shut up,” he muttered.  
  
It was going to be a long night.  
  


**6/26/2001;** **7:00 am**

  
  
Klaus forgot about how much he missed his bed. His nice, warm, _soft_ bed that he could perhaps disappear into and never have to face the world from. He was allowed to sleep in his room today - _a nice change of pace -_ but was soon rudely awakened by the sound of ringing bells.  
  
Klaus groaned, pulling the bedsheet over his face.  
  
He had to get up. He knew he had to get up. Father would be displeased if he missed out on breakfast and would take it out on him in some - _probably sadistic_ \- way.  
  
He pulled his uniform on - _the same one from the day before_ \- and tried his best to smooth out all of the wrinkles. Running his hand through his hair, he decided that his appearance was suitably passable, and made his way down the grand staircase.  
  
“You’re late,” Ben whispered to him as he pulled up to the table.  
  
Klaus snorted, digging into his eggs. He glanced towards father, who luckily didn’t seem to notice - _or care_ \- that he was a minute or two late, and he contently washed down his eggs with a glass of orange juice.  
  
Father insisted it be quiet at all meal times, so no words were ever spoken at the table. Other forms of communication, however, were fair game.  
  
Luther and Allison were making googly eyes at each other - _gross_ \- while Diego and Ben looked like they were engaged in an intense thumb wresting match. Vanya was twisting around strands of her hair and Five....  
  
Five!  
  
Klaus wanted to break the silence and ask him where the hell he has been, but held his tongue. His smallest brother was staring into his eggs, looking as though he hadn’t touched them at all.  
  
Klaus’s heart sank.  
  
Was he okay?  
  
Five not touching his food wasn’t entirely new - _the kid weighed eighty pounds soaking wet_ \- but it was the expression on his face that worried Klaus.  
  
He looked....tired. Beat. Devoid of any and all enthusiasm.  
  
_Shit._  
  
Father must have done a number on him.  
  
Suddenly he didn’t feel so hungry anymore, passing the time by stirring his eggs around the plate. When they were finally released, Klaus tracked down Five in the living room.  
  
He somehow looked even worse standing up than sitting down.  
  
Was...was his arm in a cast?  
  
“What happened?” he asked, trying to be as gentle as possible.  
  
“Go away.”  
  
So _that’s_ how it was going to be.  
  
“You didn’t answer me.”  
  
“I shouldn’t have to. What goes on in my life is none of your concern.”  
  
“But your arm...”  
  
“Is fine!” he hissed, turning around to face him directly.  
  
“It’s broken.”  
  
“Sprained. It’s not a big deal.”  
  
“Of _course_ it’s a big....”  
  
“Stay out of it, Klaus,” he cut in icily. “You have _your_ problems and I have mine.”  
  
Klaus grasped his brother’s shoulders, taking note of how boney they were.  
  
“It was father, wasn’t it? Did he hurt you? Did he...”  
  
Five wrenched himself out of his grasp.  
  
“ _It. Is. Not. Your. Concern_ ,” he repeated slowly before stalking away.  
  
Klaus didn’t follow him.  
  


**7/03/2001;** **10:25 am**

  
  
“Allison?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Do you know how Five sprained his wrist?”

  
She turned around, a frown forming on her face.  
  
“We’re supposed to be doing math homework, Klaus.”  
  
“I know that, but...”  
  
He trailed off, trying to regain composure.  
  
“Look, do you know something or not?”  
  
Allison bit her lip, swiveling around to see if anyone was watching them.  
  
“Father apparently has a new training routine for Five,” she said softly. “It must be pretty brutal.”  
  
“New...why?”  
  
She shrugged.  
  
“I don’t know. He just does it sometimes.”  
  
“But...I mean his wrist was broken! Shouldn’t we be concerned?”  
  
“Shhhhh,” she hissed.  
  
“Allison...”  
  
“Look, we’re getting older. Things change. Routines change. He’s pushing us because he believes we can do better. It’s just how it is.”  
**  
**

**7/12/2001;** **12:34 am**

  
  
Klaus was sick of being alone. He was sick of the mausoleum. He was sick of the voices and the ghosts.  
  
He...he missed Five. He missed watching movies and eating junk food late at night. He missed his rambling about physics and quantum mechanics and whatever else was floating around in his head.  
  
At least now there were things to pass the time with. He filled out another word search, read another chapter of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, and finished a bag of Cheetos that Five smuggled to him a couple of weeks ago.  
  
But even with all of these resources at his fingertips, he still couldn’t help but feel the gaping hole in his chest that his brother had left.  
  
For the first time in months, he cried.

  
**8/07/2001;** **1:42 am**

_“Pourquoi est-il juste allongé là?”_

_“ты грустный?”_

_“De kleine is niet op bezoek geweest….”_

The voices were incredibly loud tonight.

Louder than they had been in a while.

_“_ _почему ты мне не помогаешь?”_

Klaus groaned, looking up.

Ah, foreign lady back at it again.

“I _told_ you,” he growled, “I don’t speak that!”

His head was aching something fierce, and no amount of controlled breathing was helping him calm down. This night felt long, longer than usual, that is. Though of late, _every_ night felt long. Perhaps it would have been better if Five had never visited him at all. Then maybe Klaus wouldn’t have gotten used to having company.

He eyed the half-full Svedka bottle that was still lying near the back wall. He hadn’t touched it for months, not since him and Five had splurged a bit too much and ended up getting really sick in the morning.

 _“I can’t hear the ghosts,”_ he had told him.

Was it the alcohol?

Did it dampen his powers in some way?

_“что вы делаете?”_

“Piss off,” he muttered, grabbing the bottle and taking a swig.

God, it tasted awful.

And it was exactly what he needed.

A couple of sips later, the noise had died down enough for him to curl up and try to get some sleep.

Maybe he should drink more often.

**8/26/2001;** **3:59 pm**

  
It took a couple of weeks before he saw Five again.  
  
The brace was thankfully off of his wrist, but his sullen expression remained a permanent feature on his face.  
  
All Klaus wanted to do was to go up and ask him how he was, what he was doing, _are you going to visit me again?...._  
  
He shook his head.  
  
No, no. This wasn’t about _him_. It was about Five.  
  
Klaus heard heavy footsteps - _adult_ footsteps, and quickly hid himself behind the wall panel. He was technically supposed to be doing an English assignment, but his boredom had taken over about ten minutes in.  
  
“It is time for your training, Number Five.”  
  
Father. Of course it was.  
  
Klaus remained still, his curiosity peaked. What _were_ they doing out there?  
  
He heard a book close and the scraping of the chair against the wooden floor.  
  
“Where is it today?” Five asked.  
  
He sounded entirely unenthused, perhaps even a bit nervous.  
  
“What did I say about asking questions?”  
  
“Sorry, sir,” he mumbled.  
  
“Look up when you speak to me, Number five.”  
  
“Sorry, sir,” was his response, slightly louder now.  
  
Klaus waited in bated breath for them to leave his line of sight, and quickly went in pursuit.  
  
This was a bad idea, he knew. If he was caught.....  
  
Yes, this was a terrible idea.  
  
But he wanted to know what they were doing. He wanted to know why Five wasn’t visiting, why he wasn’t talking to him, how he broke his wrist. He made his way upstairs - _slowly, he didn’t want to make too much noise -_ and then up more stairs.  
  
Actually, how big was this mansion again?  
  
The stairs seemed endless, and he realized - _perhaps much too late_ \- that he was heading towards the roof.  
  
_What the hell?_  
  
Why were they up there?  
  
Klaus clambered his way up the remaining few stairs and slowly made his way through the door. Five and father were indeed out there, and he inched slightly closer so he could hear the conversation better.  
  
“I....I don’t want to do this...”  
  
“This isn’t about what you want, it’s about...”  
  
“But what if I can’t...”  
  
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it Number Five?” Father hissed in such a manner entirely uncharacteristic of his disposition. “To prove yourself to me? To show me that you are capable of performing feats of...”  
  
“But this isn’t...”  
  
“I am training you to expand your limitations. To push boundaries! You mustn’t let your fear overrule your ability to perform.”  
  
Five shook his head, taking a step back.  
  
“I can’t,” he whispered.  
  
_Can’t what?_  
  
It was silent, if only for a moment.  
  
“Very well,” father said, his voice now deceptively calm. “If you are going to make this difficult, then so be it.”  
  
Before Klaus knew what was happening, father grabbed his brother’s arm and dragged him to the edge of the roof.  
  
“I can’t!” he cried, trying to tear himself from his grasp. “I told you, I...”  
  
He didn’t finish the sentence before he was shoved off of the roof.  
  
_No!_  
  
Klaus let out what could only be described as a mix between a wail and a screech. He leaped up immediately, dashing towards the ledge.  
  
_“Number four! What are you doing...”_  
  
“You killed him!” he screamed, peering down the side of the house.  
  
“You....you....”  
  
It was so foggy outside today. He couldn’t see the bottom. He couldn’t see the grass and the bushes and the flowers. He couldn’t see Five.  
  
“You killed him!” he hissed, turning back around.  
  
“I did no such thing, Number Four. Why aren’t you...”  
  
“You pushed him off!”  
  
Klaus didn’t wait for a response. He _couldn’t_ wait for a response. He dashed back downstairs, trying to ignore the burning in his calves, and pushed his way past mother and his siblings towards the back door.  
  
_“Klaus? What is he...”  
  
“Why is he?”  
  
“Where....?”  
_  
“Five?” he yelled, sprinting towards the garden.  
  
No response.  
  
His heart rate quickened.  
  
“Five?” he screamed again.  
  
Still nothing.  
  
Actually, there _was_ nothing.  
  
No blood or guts or any sign of a human body.  
  
He looked around wildly, combing through every tree and bush. Past the swings and the sidewalks. He looked up the side of the mansion, perhaps Five had caught onto a windowsill?  
  
Still, nothing.  
  
It was only then that Klaus allowed himself to relax.  
  
He did it. He must have teleported.  
  
“Klaus? What are you doing out here?”  
  
It was Allison, with Diego and Luther following closely behind.  
  
“It’s...uh, nothing,” he stuttered, still trying to catch his breath.  
  
“Nothing? You ran through the house like a maniac.”  
  
_“What else is new?”_ Diego muttered.  
  
“Everything is fine,” he insisted, stepping past them. “Just went for a jog is all.”  
  
_“He needs to get his head checked.”_  
  
_“Shut up, Diego.”_  
  
Klaus clambered back upstairs, a process that was made much more difficult when it felt as though you had completed a marathon. His legs weren’t quite responding to his brain, and he had to drag himself up the last couple of steps.  
  
He couldn’t quite remember the last time he’d been inside Five’s room, it had probably been at least a year. He knocked softly to no response. He knocked louder to the same effect.  
  
_“Fine. Be that way.”_  
  
He opened the door - _it was lucky that father refused to install locks_ \- and stepped inside, expecting to hear an earful from his smallest brother.  
  
Instead he got...nothing.  
  
Five _was_ there, knees to his chest and hair looking decidedly unbrushed.  
  
He looked...lost.  
  
“Five?” he said softly.  
  
“Why are you in my room?”  
  
There was no venom in his voice, but no warmth either.  
  
“I wanted to see if you were okay.”  
  
He clenched his hand. Then unclenched it.  
  
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”  
  
“I...I saw what happened. Earlier. With father.”  
  
_That_ drew his attention.  
  
“What were you doing up there? Did you follow us?”  
  
“I was curious...”  
  
“I told you to stay out of it, Klaus!” he said angrily.  
  
“You could have died!”  
  
“I didn’t.”  
  
“You....but...it...”  
  
He sighed.  
  
“It’s not right,” he finally said. “What he makes us do.”  
  
Silence permeated the room. He should probably go, but it just felt wrong to leave Five alone. He inched up closer, and upon receiving no reaction from his brother, he sat down next to him on the bed.  
  
“It’s....my fault,” he whispered. “I brought up the time travel thing. I told him I was ready. He was just testing to see if I was right.”  
  
“That doesn’t mean he should have thrown you off of a roof.”  
  
Five shrugged, looking down towards his shoes.  
  
“No,” he murmured. “I suppose it doesn’t.”  
  
A sniffle. And then the tears.  
  
It was...strange. Seeing his brother cry. Actually, Klaus didn’t think he’d ever seen Five cry before. It was strangely unsettling. He put his arm around the smaller boy’s shoulders, a small act that signified he was there and he wasn’t leaving. Klaus wasn’t sure how long it took before the crying stopped, but it was completely dark outside when he did.  
  
“I don’t feel any better,” Five mumbled, face pressed up again Klaus’s academy blazer.  
  
“Story of my life.”  
  
Another second of silence.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Five said, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “For not visiting in a while, it’s just...”  
  
“It’s not your fault...”  
  
“I shouldn’t have even suggested time travel. It was stupid of me.”

“You’re not stupid, Five. Dad is just an ass.”

For the first time in a while, Klaus could see something akin to a smile form on his face.

“And anyways,” he continued. “We’re brothers, right? We gotta stick together.”

He heard another knock on the door – _a gentle one_ – meaning that at least it wasn’t father. Klaus glanced towards Five, who didn’t seem like he was in a particular rush to get up.

“Tell them to leave me alone,” he mumbled.

“Will do.”

It turned out the be Allison – _thank god_ – along with Luther.

“I wanted to see if you guys were okay…” she started, craning her neck to see through the crack in the door.

Klaus entered the hallway, closing the door behind him.

“He’s had a rough day, is all.”

“Is it father?”

“When isn’t it father?”

Allison shook her head, stifling a laugh.

“I didn’t know you cared so much, Klaus.”

“He’s…helped me a lot, okay? I know he can be a pain…”

_“And a smart alec –“_

_“Hush, Luther…”_

“…..but he cares about us, you know?”

Something flashed through Allison eyes that Klaus wasn’t quite able to decipher.

“We’ll leave you be then,” she finally said, giving Luther a gentle elbow in the stomach. “And try to keep father distracted downstairs.”

“Much appreciated.”

He watched them descend back towards the kitchen, and quietly entered back into the room. Five had shifted positions and was now laying down fully on his bed with his eyes closed.

Was he asleep?

Klaus paused, determining his next move. He should probably leave, but something just felt entirely wrong in leaving him there alone.

“Klaus?” a small voice said, breaking him from his reverie.

Oh, maybe he _wasn’t_ quite asleep.

“Yeah?”

“Will you stay with me?”

That question felt familiar. Maybe it was because Klaus had asked it himself all of those months ago in the darkness of the mausoleum. He couldn’t lie and say that this family wasn’t messed up, their mother was a robot and their father was perhaps one of the most cruelly indifferent people he ever had the displeasure of meeting. But his siblings?

When he needed him most, Five had been _there_. He had spent countless nights in a cold and dark room just to make sure that Klaus was still breathing. 

Maybe….maybe he would never be truly okay. Maybe Five would never truly be okay.

Maybe it was okay _not_ to be okay sometimes.

As long as there was someone there beside you to help along the way. What else could you ask for?

He made his away across the room, carefully observing his smaller brother. He was definitely asleep now, perhaps not even fully awake when he had asked the question. Klaus draped a blanket over his shoulders to provide some – _if small_ – level of comfort, and re-positioned his head onto one of his many pillows. Five had always been such a restless sleeper, and even now Klaus could see his brother trembling, finding no comfort or reprieve in his current state of unconsciousness.

Klaus sat down by the side of the bed and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. It took several minutes, but he could finally hear Five’s breathing deepen into something that could be considered a restful slumber.

Still, Klaus didn’t move. He would stay here with Five as Five had done for him all that time ago.

_Because that’s what family does._

And for now, there was no place he’d rather be.

**Author's Note:**

> Five is a huge Star Wars nerd and that is the hill I will die on.


End file.
